Four Times Sebastian Watches Kurt Masturbate and One Time He Joins In
by HoneydewKisses
Summary: AU. Sebastian and Kurt are both freshmen at NYADA and live in the same dorm building. Just like Rachel, Kurt likes to take his showers late and Sebastian… well, don't mind him, he's just enjoying the show.


**Four Times Sebastian Watches Kurt Masturbate and One Time He Joins In**

**1.**

The first time happens completely by accident.

Sebastian doesn't usually shower this late. But things got really sweaty at the party tonight and even though he's dead tired and it's just after three a.m., he really needs to feel clean again before he falls into bed.

Yawning, he enters the communal bathroom only to stop dead in his tracks when a throaty moan rings loudly through the otherwise empty facilities, mixed with the sounds of heavy breathing and running water.

Well.

Sebastian is still standing just inside the bathroom, a good few metres away from the showers. Absentmindedly, he thinks he must look pretty stupid, frozen in place like he is, but he can't risk making any noise now, not when it would mean the possibility of those delicious sounds stopping abruptly.

The guy's voice is... _perfect_. Not too high, but not too deep either, rough and scratchy just the way Sebastian likes it, hitching just at the right moments for him to be able to imagine the exact way the guy's hand must be stroking his cock, slow at first, then faster, harder, _louder_.

"Ah!" the voice moans in ecstasy and makes Sebastian shiver violently as he imagines the guy slumping against the shower wall, stroking himself through his orgasm, his hand covered in come that Sebastian would love to help clean up.

By the time Sebastian is back in his dorm, shower and brushing his teeth completely forgotten when he shot out of the room like he'd been burned, he's rock hard and panting heavily through his mouth.

_Interesting_, he thinks, and jerks off under the covers until he's raw and sweaty all over again, the stranger's moans still echoing in his ears.

**2.**

The second time is an accident as well.

Sebastian is not one of those obsessed freaks who stay in the library till late at night, but that damn essay is due tomorrow and he, as always, has put it off for way too long. Tired and worn out, he stumbles into the bathroom sometime between two and three a.m., toothpaste and towel in hand and toothbrush already in his mouth.

It almost clatters to the ground when his jaw drops open at the sound of a familiar voice, and heat rushes to his head (and south) as the moans, interlaced with little whimpers this time, reverberate in the air that is thick with fog and the smell of sex.

Which is just Sebastian's imagination because he only sees one set of feet when he carefully approaches the cabin door, bolder and much, _much_ more curious this time. He wants to know- to at least see a tiny bit of the body that the voice invading his dreams over the past few days belongs to. He doubts, of course, as he risks a peak through the slightly opened shower door, that it'll be as good as what his masochistic mind chooses to come up with at random intervals during the day, leaving Sebastian flushed and aching in his jeans.

And he's right.

It's even _better_.

Sebastian's first thought at the sight of the lean male body slumped against the shower wall and back turned towards Sebastian, is _legs_.

Fuck it all, they're long. No, scratch that. They go on for-fucking-_ever_.

His next thought as his eyes travel up the smooth expanse of wet, flushed skin, is _ass_. Or, to be more precise, _ass fingers fingers in ass he has two fingers up his ass fuck fuck fuck fuck me_.

Sebastian is out of the bathroom and in his dorm room before he knows it, yet again left achingly hard but now with the added torture of being able to visualise running his hands up those legs and cupping that ass firmly, replacing the guy's fingers with his own and wrecking him just as he has wrecked Sebastian, until he's begging and moaning for Sebastian's cock.

Sebastian was moments away from stepping into that shower and doing just that. To a guy he hasn't even seen the face of. To a guy he _spied_ upon.

He's pretty sure shit like that could be illegal and this is totally, completely, definitely and without a doubt Not Good. With capital letters.

**3.**

The third time is, again, purely accidental.

No, really.

It's not like Sebastian _planned_ to play Bioshock till three in the morning even though his eyes were slipping shut and he died more times than he could count. He just... really, really likes the game. And it's not his fault he forgot his toothpaste in the bathroom earlier and needs to retrieve immediately.

At three o'clock in the morning. Yeah.

Anyway.

Precisely a week after the first... encounter (not that Sebastian is counting), Sebastian enters the bathroom silently and breathes a sigh of relief when he hears the shower running. There are no moans to accompany the sound of water though, and even as Sebastian creeps closer to the door that is standing slightly ajar a voice inside his head keeps telling him insistently that this is a very, very bad idea.

Too bad Sebastian has always thought more with the lower parts of his anatomy. Which are already getting excited at the prospect of being near that siren-like creature again.

Gingerly, he peeks through the gap, ready to bolt at the slightest possibility of being noticed. But he needn't have worried – even though the guy's profile is turned to him, his eyes are firmly closed as he thoroughly spreads delicious smelling shampoo over his hair.

This time, Sebastian doesn't let himself be distracted by the smooth skin and the curve of his ass where droplets of water run down the small of his back to disappear between firm cheeks – fine, he's distracted a _little_ – and his eyes almost instantly zone in on the stranger's face. Which is...

Well, pretty gorgeous actually, except for the fact that... No. Just no. Sebastian Smythe has _not _spent the past week daydreaming about and jerking off to Kurt Hummel, the annoying and bitchy princess from his dancing class.

Things like this don't happen in real life.

Except that they do, he's forced to admit when the gorgeous boy on the other side of the door begins to hum "Mambo Italiano", the song they danced to just today.

Sebastian thinks that his mind should probably have a harder time to match the image of the prissy, stuck up boy he sees almost every day with that of the alluring, devilish siren in his fantasies. But then again, despite the fact that they are at each other's throats half of the time, it's not like he hasn't noticed the way Kurt's taut body moves fluently with the music, or the way his pronounced cheekbones flush from exertion and his sweaty tshirt clings to him in all the right places.

No, Kurt Hummel would definitely not be the worst person to jerk off to... if it wasn't for the fact that he was _Kurt Hummel_. The most annoying, nerve-wracking, downright _infuriating_ boy on the planet, whose legs are also locked so tightly that Sebastian would have to use a crowbar if he wanted to get on that.

Which he kind of does.

Sebastian stays in the bathroom for much longer than is healthy (not that this whole affair is healthy in the first place) just because he wants to hear the guy's, no, _Kurt's_ voice turn rough and breathy again, and as he leans against the bathroom tiles he thinks about what it would feel like were he to corner Kurt after the dance class and bend him over the bars, if the sounds he'd make then would be the same as now or even better.

Later that night, when he lays in his bed, exhausted, frustrated and utterly confused, Sebastian remembers that it's Kurt's turn to direct the warm-up routine for class tomorrow. Which includes stretching. And bending.

Lots and lots of bending.

_Fuck_.

This little obsession seriously needs to _stop_.

**4.**

It doesn't.

Sebastian tries to stay away, he really does. He succeeds for a day, two, four, a week... but nine days later he finds himself back in the bathroom once again. It certainly doesn't help that now that he knows whom the gorgeous body with the perfect voice belongs to, he's forced to deal with seeing it – seeing _Kurt_ – almost every day and being tortured by the images his own mind continues to come up with. It's that fucking dance class; seeing Kurt's normally so primly dressed body in sweats and tshirt just _does_ something to Sebastian, nevermind the way his long limbs move and stretch and sway to the music, droplets of sweat making their way down his slender neck and vanishing beneath the collar of his shirt, his lips slightly parted as he gulps for air.

Sometimes, Sebastian truly hates his impressive libido and imagination.

He's had to deal with sexual frustration before, but this is getting simply ridiculous. Kurt haunts Sebastian's dreams almost every night and features prominently in most of his daydreams. Since finding out about Kurt's shower escapades, Sebastian sees him _everywhere_.

The worst of all is probably that Kurt is always so unbearably close, Sebastian would just have to take a few steps he'd be _there_, his fingers just millimetres away from the tantalising skin. Yet at the same time, he's also as untouchable as scorching hot fire, _especially_ for Sebastian, his head held high and his back ramrod straight as waves of dislike roll off of him every time they so much as make eye contact.

So no one can truly blame Sebastian for wanting to indulge at least for a little bit.

Hopefully.

But he'll be really quiet just in case.

As soon as Sebastian enters the bathroom, he's assaulted by the sinful sound of Kurt's little moans and his cock practically jumps to attention.

This cannot be healthy.

Almost on instinct, he approaches the shower door, but it's been shut completely this time around and Sebastian has to restrain a frustrated sigh at the sight.

Why is he beating himself up over all of this anyway?

As he listens to Kurt's voice with his eyes closed, his sweats feeling uncomfortably tight and clammy, Sebastian comes to a conclusion. (The timing might be a bit weird, admittedly, but hey, better late than never.) So what if Kurt hates him and Sebastian is still not entirely sure he'll actually be able to stand the other boy's presence?

The undeniable fact is: Sebastian Smythe wants Kurt Hummel. Badly.

And what a Smythe wants, Sebastian tells himself firmly as he leaves the bathroom undetected once more, a Smythe will get.

Kurt Hummel can bet his fine piece of ass on that.

**+1.**

The next time Sebastian decides to make a visit to the showers is a considerable amount of days later. This doesn't mean that his... _condition _has gotten any better though.

It's just easier to resist the temptation now, mainly because he is now able to feel Kurt's body up close and personal on an almost daily basis, which might or might not have something to do with how he bribed their dance instructor into partnering them up for the upcoming Winter Ball performance.

Sebastian Smythe is on a mission to get Kurt Hummel into his bed before New Year's so that he can finally be free of the spell the diva's voice has had him under since the first day he walked through that bathroom door.

It's not going well.

Despite his best efforts, Sebastian just can't seem to play his usual charm around Kurt as he does with the others, and even if he tried, Kurt would most likely just brush him off and laugh in his face. No, with them it's always biting comments and snappy comebacks, a battle of wit and wills with a tinge of underlying sexual (at least Sebastian hopes it is) tension. Sure, their bodies move together perfectly, both of them easily keeping up with the music and each other as they glide over the dance floor smoothly to the envious glances of their peers.

But that doesn't change a thing about the fact that Sebastian still hasn't been able to crack the wall behind which Kurt hides his attraction.

And there is attraction, Sebastian just _knows _it. Firstly, because he has a knack for things like these and secondly because, come one, who wouldn't? Sebastian is a _stud_.

At least he's been able to get his hands on many parts of Kurt's body as they danced the tango yesterday and boy, that had been _hot_. Sebastian had been so sure he had Kurt in the bag then, what with them panting and staring at each other hard after the end, their bodies still pressed flush against each other and Kurt's eyes darker than usual. But then their instructor turned off the music and continued the lecture, and everything was back to normal again.

So today, Sebastian is more frustrated than usual which, in his mind, justifies spying on his very hot and very not-interested dance partner.

Whatever. Sebastian has never been big on laws anyway.

He leans his head back against the wall next to Kurt's shower and closes his eyes. It seems like Wednesday is Kurt's jerk-off day, because Sebastian has always been... lucky when he came to look for him on this day, at three in the morning. As Kurt's voice rings through his ears, he imagines him leaning on the wall just as Sebastian does, his eyes fluttering shut while he thinks of whatever guy strikes his fancy at the moment, stroking his cock slowly, then faster and harder until he's _there_, at the edge and falling off, the release making his body tremble with lust as a name slips from his lips-

"_Sebastian_."

Sebastian's eyes snap open and he looks to his right in panic, so sure for a split second that he's been discovered that he doesn't immediately notice that Kurt's voice isn't shocked or angry. Not at all.

In fact, Sebastian is pretty sure Kurt has just said his name in the same tone he uses when he's at the height of pleasure, almost coming but not quite, breathless, needy and utterly _irresistible_. (It's probably weird for Sebastian to know this, but who the fuck even _cares_.)

Sebastian has had _enough_.

With a fierce scowl firmly set on his face, he throws the shower door open and grabs a gobsmacked Kurt by his shoulders to slam him violently against the wall, disregarding his panicked shriek or the fact that Sebastian's clothes are getting completely drenched by the water.

He's up and in Kurt's face before the other boy can recover from his shock.

"What. The _fuck_. Do you think. You're doing."

Sebastian doesn't even bother to make the phrase a question, his tone low and dangerous as he stares at Kurt with stormy eyes and a clenching jaw, breathing heavily as if he has just run a marathon.

"Wh-what the fuck do _you_ think you're doing, you perverted-" Kurt begins as he finally finds his words again, pushing at Sebastian's chest to try and shove the taller boy off, his glare furious but with a hint of panic in it.

Kurt's cock is still hard between their bodies, brushing against the fabric of Sebastian's jeans while they struggle, and it's _all for Sebastian_. All for him.

"I...," Sebastian interrupts him, still deceptively calm as he grabs Kurt's flailing wrists and pins them securely on either side of Kurt's head, "...want to know... why you keep acting like a fucking eunuch... yet you moaned _my_ name when you jerked off just now." His voice is smooth as silk but the anger is simmering just under the surface, ready to explode at one wrong move. Kurt must notice, because despite them being so close that they almost share the same breaths, he quits his struggling for the moment and simply stares at Sebastian, his pupils wide and his face still flushed from what he had been doing earlier. "Please, Kurt," Sebastian continues, the name rolling off his tongue like honey, "do tell me why I've been obsessing over you for the past weeks, thinking I had no chance with you when that's very obviously not the case at all."

Kurt's eyes widen – as if he's been caught, Sebastian notices – and he blinks up at Sebastian for a few moments before blushing furiously. "That... that was just a slip of the tongue!"

He begins to struggle again but Sebastian's hold on his wrists is firm and sure and really, Sebastian thinks, Kurt doesn't seem _that_ intent on getting away.

The shower is still running and hot, and Kurt and Sebastian are wet, horny, and _close_.

This might just be worth a lawsuit after all.

"That's okay," Sebastian smirks as he leans in, his eyes staring intently into Kurt's now hooded ones, "As long as you're willing to slip your tongue over _other_ places."

He doesn't give Kurt the chance to reply before he presses their lips together in a passionate kiss, and no further words are exchanged over the following minutes.

* * *

**EDIT: **To the anonymous reviewer A. G. Garcia: You know, if you would've asked nicely, I might have considered writing a smutty sequel, but if you ask like that? Forget it. You're not entitled to smut, it's my story and I do what I want with it.


End file.
